Pages

Monday, 1 October 2012

I have Russel D McLean below who has shared his
encyclopaedic knowledge of crime fiction to look at the status of the whole
genre.

DARK UNDERCURRENTS

Russel D McLean

The best crime novels aren’t about solving the
crime. They are not about catching the criminal. They are not about finding out
Whodunnit.

There, I said it. And I know that as usual
someone’s going to be shaking their head and thinking that somehow I don’t
understand the genre, that in order for a crime novel to be a crime novel, it
has to follow the pattern of crime committed, crime investigated, guilty
punished.

Its one of the reasons I’m a little antsy about
the American term for the crime novel: “a mystery”. Because the term seems
restrictive, as though crime fiction is restricted to the presentation and
(probable) eventually unravelling of a mystery, be it a mysterious theft or a
murder or whatever.

And that’s not what crime fiction is. Sure, mystery is a valid genre, but as a subset
of a wider whole. That’s my point: the Whodunnit or the traditional
procedural or whatever are absolutely valid examples of the crime genre, but
as part of a wider whole.

Crime fiction is about the intrusion of the
morally transgressive onto the everyday. Its about how people cope in extreme
situations. Its about the cause and effect of criminal acts.

And yes, sometimes that will involve a policeman
or a detective tracking down criminals. But that aspect is not essential to a
good crime novel.

Think about these books:

The Hunter.

The Godfather.

Jack’s Return Home.

The Killer Inside Me.

Savages.

King Suckerman

None of these books are about cops and robbers
in the traditionally accepted sense of the idea. Yes, some of them (Jack’s
Return Home, Savages and The Hunter) are about hunting down a guilty party and
punishing them, but the very nature of normal good vs evil in these books is
very much subverted (often one kind of criminal hunting another who has broken
accepted rules of engagement, in which case the books become less of a
whodunnit and more of an exploration of ethical norms, which sounds dry when
you put it like that but in practice is a hugely exciting approach).

They are all about people whose lives are
affected in one way or another by criminal activity. As is, say, something like
Trainspotting. Yes, whether or not Irvine Welsh is willing to admit to
it he is a crime writer. His books are about people who transgress the normally
accepted laws of society and the consequences (good and bad) of them doing
that. Its what makes the books so appealing and exciting, and yet so few people
think of them as crime novels because our idea of what the crime novel is and
what it can do has become restricted.

But even those that work within established
parameters can be writing about more than the simple thrill of seeing the bad
guys get their comeuppance. Lawrence Block’s Matthew Scudder books are, on the
surface, accomplished PI novels that riff off a long history of the archetype,
echoing works by Chandler,
MacDonald and so forth. But what Block wound up doing - the thing that made his
books far more interested - was making his novels not simply about solving a
crime, but also about a place: New
York City. These books show the changing face of the
Big Apple as Scudder and the city age together. People, places and feelings
change as the novels move in more or less real time. And more than that -
because many crime novels can be about place, although few will be as evocative
as Block - they are also about alcoholism and addiction. Making Matt an
alcoholic - and dealing with that in a very emotionally honest way, exploring
what that means and allowing the reader to gain a deeper sense of a difficult
topic. Its part of what crime fiction does so well; give the reader a
rollicking story on which to lean, while dealing (often more effectively than
literary novels) with sometimes difficult topics, or opening us up to worlds we
might not know or understand (which is why I’ve never understood people who
read books only about places or thing they know; the joy of reading is being
opened up to new worlds and new ideas, even when that may make us uncomfortable
or somehow challenge us).

It was the same with Ross MacDonald, who
frequently explored family dynamics and psychology under the guise of a classic
PI novel. Or James Ellroy who explodes the cliches of the hardboiled and
procedural genres while exploring deep-set corruption in people and
establishments, and hightighting the all-consuming power of obsession. Or - to
bring it closer to home - Ian Rankin exploring Scottish politics through the
medium of police procedural; dealing with real-world situations right alongside
the fictional cases (I’m thinking very specifically here of when he used the G8
summit in his novels but he has of course at various fictionalised crimes that cut
to the heart of the Scottish landscape). The best crime novels use the
so-called constraints of genre to explore a wide variety of issues. And of
course the best ones don’t offer easy answers, but challenge the readers to
explore their own reactions to the story.

Crime novels - and especially msyteries, when
done well - can be the ultimate red herring, in and of themselves. They can be
far more than they appear. And they can be wider, deeper-reaching, than perhaps
popular consensus might give them credit for.

Russel D Mclean’s J McNee novels (The Good Son,
The Lost Sister and Father Confessor) are dark, violent PI tales set in Dundee
Scotland that are as much about guilt, loyalty, betrayal and family as they are
about very bad people doing very bad things. Visit his website at www.russeldmcleanbooks.com, or follow him on
twitter @russeldmclean

I have just finished Father Confessor and it is a cracking
read which epitomises everything he has said above. If you enjoy and agree with
his post then read his book and see him put his money where his mouth is.